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But he could not tell her it was nothing.
She’d asked Iona about it later. For all that the woman rarely gossiped, never giving away information unless asked, she seemed to know everyone’s secrets, like she inhabited every hearth.
“Someone spat on him once,” Iona had told her, making sure no one else was listening. “He’s had stones thrown at him too.”
Juliana paled, because even though she wasn’t his biggest fan back then, the thought of doing that to anyone—least of all a prince—was unthinkable. “Maytree would have had them whipped.”
“Aye, she would have,” Iona confirmed, nodding her head sagely, “which is why he never mentioned it, and why I found him trying to apply sage to a scrape he’d sustained during an incident.”
“Sage?”
“He knew herbs could take away the sting but didn’t know which ones, and didn’t want to go to the healer in case she told his mother. I sorted him out.”
Juliana hadn’t known what to make of that. She still didn’t.
“You look pensive this morning,” Hawthorn remarked, strolling beside her. “Care to share your glorious thoughts? Am I in them? Am I dashing?”
“I have not the imagination to create that image,” she said, jaw tight.
Hawthorn sighed, clutching his heart. “The lady wounds me so! May I hold your basket?”
“What—why would you want to hold my basket?”
“I am hoping that it might make me look less conspicuous.”
“You—you are wearing finest spider-silk!”
“Well, I couldn’t exactly bring myself to dress in those rags the peasantry call garments….”
Juliana sighed so deeply she felt her breath cut against her ribcage.I can’t believe I ever felt sorry for him,she thought, and thrust her basket at his face. “Here, hold this. Nice and high, so I don’t have to look at you.”
Hawthorn made no complaints, and diligently accompanied her as she swept through the market, purchasing more oil for her sword, a buckle to replace one that had broken, and a small pot of ink.
Purchases complete, she turned to head back towards the castle, almost bumping into a young mortal woman carrying a small baby strapped to her front and a large basket.
“Bree?” Juliana said, recognising her warm brown face and dark eyes immediately. She was the widow of a young knight they’d lost on an expedition into Winter a few months ago. Juliana hadn’t seen her since just after the baby had been born. She’d been meaning to check in on her. “How have you been?”
A terrible question to ask a faerie, bound to honesty. How would most be having lost a husband and gained a child?
But Bree was mortal, and answered as a mortal would. “Oh, fine, or as well as can be expected! This one keeps me busy, of course. She’s starting to sleep better now, which helps.”
Juliana nodded, trying not to notice the dark circles under Bree’s eyes or how frayed and patched her dress was. She’d been compensated when Jack died, of course, but that was a while ago, and rumour had it he’d never been that great with money.
She bit the inside of her cheek. “CanIhelp at all?“ she asked, hoping she wasn’t being rude.
Bree smiled, more warmly than before. “Honestly, if you asked me a few weeks ago, I’d have jumped at the offer, but then my brother came into a bit of money. Shouldn’t be glad of it—gambling, you know—but this time he actually gave some of it to me and bought his way into an apprenticeship. Said he’s going straight and going to help us. Wish he was a faerie and I could hold him to it, but even our words are worth something.”
It was at this point, the baby squirmed, hitting out with her fist and accidentally catching it on a spiky, low-hanging plant, making her wail. Bree made her goodbyes quickly, kissing the fat little hand as she bimbled away.
Hawthorn, who’d remained examining a stall by the side while the two conversed, now appeared at Juliana’s shoulder. “If I was hurt, would you kiss me better?”
Juliana glared. “Oh, shut up.”
“That wasn’t a no…”
She flicked his chest, and the two of them walked back to the castle in silence.
Something niggled at the back of Juliana’s mind. Something about Bree’s brother’s turn of good fortune, his sudden coming into gold—his desire to do better.
